


Dick's Dick

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: (first gay time anyway), Accidental Voyeurism, Christmas, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, First Time, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Riding, Self-Discovery, Sex Toys, Sexual Frustration, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Jason gets Dick a gag gift for Christmas. Neither of them expect him to end up liking it so much.





	Dick's Dick

**Author's Note:**

> so I'm sorry for the title... and all the puns... and everything about this story, basically
> 
> I wanted to experiment with thus-far-straight Dick and a more experienced Jay, which was fun, and I had to tie the holiday season in with it bc tis the season for some themed smut
> 
> Merry Christmas, y'all!

Christmas at Wayne Manor has been a hectic affair since the first year Dick spent there, and it’s only gotten worse since. When he was younger, and it was only himself, Bruce, and Alfred, the worst that could — and  _ did _ — happen was a 15-foot Christmas tree toppling over after an overexcited Dick tried to incorporate the very top into his banister-to-chandelier trapeze act. At least the mountain of gifts Bruce had purchased in clueless fatherly excitement had cushioned the worst of the fall.

To this day, Alfred still eyes him with caution whenever he gets too close to any breakable ornaments.

Now, with their family exponentially bigger, the end of December ushers in Murphy’s Law like a holly-jolly curse. In past years, Dick’s seen the Christmas ham go up in flames, sucked-sharp candy canes used as weapons, and countless eggnog-fueled mistakes be made. That’s to say nothing of all the interpersonal drama often simmering beneath the surface. And those were the  _ good _ years, the ones where some villain or another didn’t interrupt with a Yuletide-themed plot to destroy the city.

So, all things considered, this year has been going exceptionally well. Most of the family has made it to the manor for Christmas Eve, and hardly anything’s been broken. Dick sits on a couch in one of his ugliest sweaters, mug of cocoa warming his hands, the fireplace crackling across the room. Damian — who celebrates Christmas more for everyone else’s sake than his own — sits beside him, almost possessive of the space.

Dick watches him unwrap a hand-knitted green hat from Alfred, and catches the minute way his eyes soften for half a second when he realizes what it is.

“I do hope you’ll wear it on those days when you insist upon practicing your swordplay in the bitter cold,” Alfred says.

“And what is the purpose of this adornment?” Damian asks, flicking at the gaudy, bright red puffball stitched to the top.

Alfred’s lips curve into the subtlest of smiles. “That,” he says, “is for my own amusement.”

Damian grumbles, but keeps it in his lap anyway.

“Okay, who’s next?” Across the room, Stephanie — clad in a sweater somehow even uglier than Dick’s own — sits up from where she’d been cuddling with Tim, and twists back to look at the tree. She wears one of those springy mistletoe headbands, and the sprig of berries bounces when she moves.

“Hmm…” Under the tree, Harper shuffles presents around until she finds one with wrapping paper as blue as her hair. She hands it over to Cassandra, sitting cross-legged next to her. “How ‘bout this one?”

Cass takes it, stands up, and walks over to Dick. “For you,” she says simply, before rejoining Harper.

Dick turns the rectangular box over in his hands until he can see the tag for himself. In hasty script, “ _ Jason _ ” is scribbled on the “From:” line.

He doesn’t expect to see Jason when he turns his head, but there he is, still silently leaning against the wall near the exit. This is the first year he’s stayed so long; his usual M.O. is to make awkward small talk until he can shove a bunch of Alfred’s cookies into his face and his pockets before slipping out through a window.

“Aww, Little Wing,” he says, “you didn’t have to get me anything.”

He expects something like “No shit” in return, but what he gets is, “Trust me, Dick: there is  _ no way _ I could have passed this up.”

The slight breathy quality to his voice gives off the impression that he’s fighting back laughter. That’s ominous. Still, Dick is  _ fairly _ certain he’s gotten over that “trying to kill them all” phase, so whatever’s in the box, it’s probably not too dangerous. As he unwraps it, he thinks,  _ how bad could it be? _

 

Bad. Very bad. The sort of bad that he never would have expected, which is kind of becoming Jason’s calling card.

In Dick’s hands, he holds a half-plastic box. Inside, displayed very proudly, is a dildo. A big, blue and black dildo with his Nightwing symbol molded onto it in raised silicon.

_ Super Sexy Heroes! _ the box declares.  _ Series 1: Nightwang.  _ It says other things, too, like  _ Babehaven’s finest _ and  _ Vibrates! 5 speeds, _ but Dick doesn’t have much time to read them all before he hastily shoves the box under one of the couch’s decorative pillows.

Over the rushing in his ears and the heat burning through his face, Dick is vaguely aware that Damian has leapt across the couch away from him with a disgusted noise, while behind him, Jason positively howls with laughter.

“What?” Steph asks. “What was it?”

Tim, who either caught a glimpse of it or is too smart to ask questions, touches her hand and shakes his head in a “you don’t wanna know”-esque gesture. Bruce, meanwhile, folds his arms over his chest, glaring at a doubled-over Jason.

“Are all of your presents… like that?” he asks.

Jason has to take the time to catch his breath and wipe at his eyes. “I’m saving Damian’s for when he turns eighteen.”

Damian’s aghast cursing and Bruce’s stern reprimand send him spiraling into a fit of laughter all over again.

 

Dick should just throw it in the trash. It’s crass, it’s an insult to everything he stands for, and it’s not like he’ll ever use it. But the price tag that Jason forgot to remove reads a bold $59.99, and he hesitates for that reason alone. Granted, Jason could have just stolen it, but the idea of wasting so much money even then makes the poor circus kid in Dick wince.

He shoves it under his bed when he gets home and resolves to find a way to get rid of it properly.

 

Time goes by. Somewhere between Blockbuster’s plan to turn several low-income housing districts into casinos and the new mayor’s crackdown on vigilante justice, Dick forgets all about his silicon doppelganger. The first few months of the new year are spent working himself to the bone, both as Nightwing and at his two different day jobs.

He doesn’t remember Jason’s gift until one rare night when he’s actually able to lie down in his bed. For once, there are no big criminal dealings that need his immediate attention, and he actually has a day off tomorrow. He can sleep for more than 2 hours at a time. He can relax. He...

He can’t sleep.

After a few precious hours wasted tossing and turning, trying desperately to shut his brain off, Dick flops onto his back and sighs up at the ceiling. He worms a hand into his sweatpants and figures he’ll tire himself out the old-fashioned way.

Predictably, that also does nothing. He can barely work himself up enough to get hard, let alone come. Something about whining with a pillow on his face and his hand down his pants jogs his memory, and, as a last resort, he dangles over the side of his bed and rummages around underneath until he grabs the package.

Uh, no pun intended.

Staring it down, his cheeks go red all over again. “Nightwang”? Seriously? He doesn’t even want to think about how many people might have bought it in earnest. Trying not to dwell on how absolutely ridiculous it is, he rips open the case, pleased to find batteries are actually included.

_ They better be, for sixty freaking dollars, _ he thinks, then shoves it into his boxers and turns it on.

Oh.  _ Oh. _ The vibrations immediately set his teeth on edge, and Dick yelps despite himself. His own cock quickly rises to the occasion, and, trembling, he trails the tip of the dildo up and down his shaft until his legs start to shiver.

Cautiously, he presses the toy to the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock. He’s not nearly ready for the resulting burst of pleasure; stars explode behind his eyes, and he keeps it pressed there until the vibrations alone force thick ropes of cum out of his throbbing cock.

He sleeps well that night.

 

His life turns hectic again after that small bit of peace. But this time is different. This time, he doesn’t forget about Jason’s present, carefully cleaned and hidden back under his bed. He dwells in the memory of the feeling even when he’s too exhausted to actually dig the toy out and use it. If that’s the power of just one vibrator-induced orgasm, he thinks, no wonder girls like them so much.

He tries to use it whenever he gets a chance. It’s pretty embarrassing, but it’s not like anyone has to know how well-loved his gag gift is, right? And it knocks him out better than any sleeping pills.

It isn’t until a few months later, after he’s thoroughly explored all five speeds, that he hesitantly moves it down to press against his asshole. He doesn’t try to push any further, but the vibrations against the tight ring of muscle drive him wild in a new way he never realized was possible, hinting at an even deeper kind of pleasure just over the horizon.

The next day, he puts in a discreet online order for some lube.

 

It takes a while for him to feel confident enough to put the dildo inside himself. For a while, he sticks to his fingers, letting the toy buzz against that sensitive spot near the tip until he brings himself to a shaking orgasm. He’s absolutely appalled that he spent so long never paying any mind to his prostate; turns out, those orgasms are more soothing than he ever thought possible.

Maybe it’s the anticipation that makes his “first time” with the toy so sweet. By the time he actually pushes it up inside his ass, he’s so wet and worked open that he’s able to take half of it all at once. The raised ridge of the Nightwing crest crooks up against his prostate, and even before Dick turns it on, it’s almost too much. But when he starts to move it?

Jesus. He has seriously been missing out.

The next morning, he leaves his apartment only to find a note pinned to his door reading, in angry scrawl, “ _ Watever bich u got in their, shut her up! Sum ov us gatta work!” _

The next few times he fucks himself, he does it with his face buried in the pillow.

 

He’s gotten too comfortable. After all, how else could he have so stupidly forgotten to close his curtains tonight?

In his defense, it’s been a long week. Too many drug busts gone awry; too much scrutiny at his one remaining day job. Sometimes it feels like the only way to relax is with an 8-inch off-brand dildo shoved up his ass, and really, is that so wrong?

It certainly  _ feels _ that way when Red Hood sputters at him through his open window. Dick’s fast, but nowhere near fast enough to yank the toy out, turn it off, and cover himself before Jason gets a big ol’ eyeful of exactly how his Christmas gift has been used.

“Jason!” Dick yelps, pressing up against the headboard as if he’s trying to flatten himself inside of it. “What are you— You can’t just— Jeez, at least  _ knock, _ or, er—”

“I, uh.” Under the hood, Dick can’t see where Jason is looking or what his expression is like, but he sounds almost as bashful as Dick himself. “I was gonna ask you about the— the, um— Y’know what? Doesn’t matter. Uh, have fun.”

He turns and zips away as fast as his grapple will take him.

Even though Dick’s so flustered that it makes him lightheaded, he remains throbbing hard under his blanket.

 

They meet properly the next night, when Dick is fully-clothed. He finds out that Jason has been tailing a mob boss with operations in Bludhaven, one expecting a pretty big weapons shipment in a couple days. It makes Dick irrationally angry. What right does Jason have to interfere with what’s now become a Bludhaven matter? He knows how Dick feels about his territory. And to come knocking at his apartment window over it?

Okay, maybe he’s just pissed that Jason interrupted him. He never did get himself off after that, even though his cock throbbed hot and heavy between his legs, begging to be touched. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jason  _ watching _ him; no way could he jerk off with that thought in mind. He wouldn’t let himself.

They work in tandem the next few nights, Dick growing snippier with every one. He doesn’t dare try to pull out his toy while Jason’s in town, even though he’s fairly certain he’s learned his lesson about knocking by now.

But, god, he hadn’t realized how much his libido had spiked since he started using the toy. He often finds himself growing hard in his spandex, and he takes out his frustrations on the poor knuckleheads he and Jason pummel each night. His only saving grace is that they’ve been splitting up to cover more ground, so Jason hasn’t gotten a chance to see his predicament firsthand.

Everything goes as smoothly as possible. After they bust up enough operations and scare Jason’s prey out of town, the two of them wind up on a rooftop together, watching red and blue cop lights flash around a warehouse a few blocks away.

“Uh.” Jason stands behind Dick, a few awkward feet between them. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Dick says without looking back.

They stand in silence for a tense few minutes, until, at once, both of them open their mouths to speak. Jason backs down, giving Dick silent permission to go first.

“...Don’t do that again,” he says.

“Huh?” Jason takes a step toward him. Dick can hear the indignation start to seep into his tone. “What was that?”

“I said, stay out of Bludhaven. I’ve got things under control here.”

Even Dick winces at his tone. But, god, he just wants Jason to leave, so that maybe he can stop thinking of him every time he settles down into bed, the phantom presence of his gift lingering underneath him like the fucking Princess and the Pea.

“Really? That’s really what you’re gonna stand here and fuckin’ say to me?” Jason asks, more aggressive now. Dick keeps his back turned even when he can feel Jason practically on top of him. “I played by your rules, I saved your skin _ more _ than once… I dunno what your problem is, but go fuck yourself, Ice Queen. At least your legs know how to open up.”

It’s harsh. The silence that descends on the both of them after Jason says it is proof enough of that. Dick’s mouth drops open, but he can’t think of a single thing to say. What  _ can _ you say to something so personal, so vulgar?

And, though he hates to admit it, it’s not like what Jason said is untrue.

He turns to face Jason, who looks as surprised as Dick that he said it. For a while, all either of them can do is stare. Dick replays Jason’s words in his head all the while, and almost shivers from the raw, uncharacteristic sexuality of it all.

He doesn’t know who moves first, but somehow, they end up kissing.

It’s a rough, heady, desperate thing, Jason backing him against the entrance to the building’s stairwell, Dick’s fingers tangled in his hair. Dick’s never been with another man before, never so much as kissed one, but he wastes no time getting used to the thought. Jason is broad and flat and made up of sharp edges, worlds different than all the women he’s been with. When he rocks his hips forward and feels the outline of Jason’s swollen cock in his pants, his head swims.

“Can’t stop,” Jason says between tongue-heavy kisses, “thinking of you. All spread open— Fucking yourself—  _ God—  _ Want you so fuckin’ bad, Grayson—”

“Jesus,” Dick says, voice trembling. It’s all he can get out before Jason captures his lips once more.

 

They crash into Dick’s apartment in the dark, knocking over lamps and dirty dishes and newspaper clippings as they go. Dick is used to the feeling of guiding someone to his bed, but he’s never before shared it with someone who smells like musk and aftershave and has hands wider than his own. Jason is single-minded and uncompromising, and while Dick tries his best to keep up, the sheer novelty of the situation keeps him off his guard and allows Jason to take most of the control.

He hears a few seams rip as they disrobe each other, but he can’t tell which of their outfits the noise comes from. Not that he spends very long thinking about clothes with Jason’s hot, wet mouth stamping a trail down his bare abdomen.

Jason doesn’t pause to suck him off when he gets low enough. He just keeps going, peppering kisses over Dick’s balls, his perineum, lifting Dick’s legs up over his shoulders.

“Whhh-what are yo _ uuu— Ohh. _ ” Dick’s jaw drops, wide eyes blinking frantically as Jason’s tongue slathers over his hole. One hand grabs at the pillows, while the other settles on the back of Jason’s head. “Oh.  _ Oh. _ Oh, Jason… Oh _ , _ Ja _ son… _ ”

Jason has definitely done this before. He spreads Dick’s cheeks with his thumbs and works his tongue into his ass with little hesitation. All at once, it’s wet and thick and firm and silky soft, and Dick arches his back and babbles helplessly while Jason moves it in and out. It’s a much more shallow invasion than he’s used to, but ten times more intimate.

Wrapping an arm around one of Dick’s legs, Jason lifts his hips and gets at him from a new angle, Dick’s lower half raised up off of the bed. In the low light, Dick watches the minute movements of Jason’s mouth as his tongue moves around, brow set like he’s working on the solution to a life-or-death problem.

“Okay,” he rasps after a moment, tugging at Jason’s hair. “Y-you’re gonna need to stop before I come.”

Jason pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, which, for whatever reason, immediately catalogs itself in Dick’s mental gallery of Sexiest Images of All Time.

“Sorry,” Jason says, breathless. “You have  _ no _ idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“No problem,” Dick says. It’s a stupid thing to say, but he’s too stunned to think straight. (Litera— No, that’s too bad a pun even for him.)

“Where is it?” Jason asks, eyes dark with lust as he trails his hands up and down Dick’s sides. “I wanna see you fuck yourself with it.”

“With wh— Oh.” Dick clears his throat. “Right. Yup. ‘Course. It’s, uh…”

Rather than explain, Dick rolls over, partly to give himself some reprieve so he’s not staring straight at Jason’s almost frighteningly sexy face. He yanks the toy and his lube out of the bedside table, and wonders how he ever lived stashing both things all the way under the bed.

Jason watches with a predatory gaze, tip of his tongue barely visible between his teeth, as Dick preps the toy and himself. It’s strange, doing it with someone else present, but he finds himself taking to the experience surprisingly fast. Must be the showbiz genes.

God, he loves it. He loves the look on Jason’s face, the heat between their bodies, the low hum of the vibrator up his ass; he moans even louder than usual because he sees the way it makes Jason’s breath stutter, and thinks,  _ fuck you, Ralph from apartment 2B — you can buy earplugs. _

It feels like an eternity of blissful exhibitionism before Jason actually forces the rest of his clothes off, discarding his pants and his heavy boots somewhere over the side of the bed. In sharp contrast to Dick’s smooth-shaven body, Jason’s cock juts out from a nest of coarse hair that trails up to his navel. Also unlike Dick, he’s uncut, which has its own charm. Everything about Jason seems designed to remind Dick he’s a man, and, god, it drives him crazy.

“Gimme that,” Jason says, gesturing toward something Dick doesn’t turn his head to see. Without waiting for a response, he snatches up the bottle of lube, squirting a thick line of it across his fingers.

Dick watches in wonderment as Jason’s hand disappears behind his body and quirks upward. He can’t see any details with Jason’s cock and balls hanging in the way, but he is able to see the way his mouth falls into a perfect O, and hears the fast-paced  _ schlick _ ing of his wet fingers fucking in and out of his asshole.

“You, uh.” Dick swallows down a moan, adjusting his toy slightly. “You do that a lot?”

Jason quirks an eyebrow. “That a problem?”

“No, no,” Dick says. “Just curious.”

Jason grins and shuffles up the bed, one leg on either side of Dick’s waist. From this new angle, he can see Jason is already three fingers deep.

“I can do a lot of pretty cool stuff, Dickiebird,” he says. “Wanna see?”

Dick licks his lips and nods mutely.

Jason pulls his fingers out and wraps his wet hand around Dick’s length. The initial contact alone is enough to drive him wild, but the way Jason jerks his hand up and down, palm swirling over his cockhead on every upswing, forces Dick to turn the vibrator down so he doesn’t come too quickly. He wonders where in the  _ hell _ Jason learned to do that, but can’t voice his concerns, as he’s too busy moaning helplessly.

“Know what I’m  _ really _ good at?” Jason asks.

Dick makes a sound like “ _ Hunh, _ ” well aware how desperate and useless he must look.

Jason sits up, positioning his ass right above Dick’s length. He keeps hold of it, swirling the cockhead in little circles around his pulsating asshole. Dick makes a conscious effort to pull his tongue back into his mouth and suck some of the drool off his chin.

Jason just chuckles. “Bikes ain’t the only thing I can ride.”

Dick swears at the end of a long exhale, brows knitted together while Jason slides down onto his cock.

Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus. Dick’s done anal before, but always with girls, and none of them quite as enthusiastic about it as Jason. It’s hot and it’s wet and it’s  _ tight, _ tighter than any fuck in recent memory, tight enough that it feels like Jason’s squeezing all the rational thoughts right out of his cock. Jason rides him without hesitation, rolling his hips in just the right way to drive Dick absolutely bonkers.

“Look at me,” he hears Jason say in a low, husky voice. “Fuckin’ watch me, Dick, with those pretty fuckin’ eyes…”

Dick obeys, but the sight of Jason rocking in his lap is almost enough to put him over the edge. He first covers his mouth, then hikes his hand up through his bangs, laughing breathlessly like he can’t believe what’s happening.

“Jason,  _ god… _ ” he breathes. “I am— I’m gonna— You’re gonna make me come. Oh, my god. Holy  _ shit _ .”

Jason speeds up, their bodies making an obscene wet squelching sound every time they slap together. The shitty mattress is squeaking, the headboard smacking against the wall, and Jason bats Dick’s hand away when he tries to take out the toy, holding it deep inside him.

“You better fuckin’ come in me, pretty boy,” he says, and, Jesus, is dirty talk another one of Jason’s hidden specialties? “Gonna milk you fuckin’  _ dry. _ ”

Dick can’t decide whether to hold onto the headboard or Jason’s hips for purchase, so he does both. His ass throbs around the fake cock, his own length powerless under Jason’s hips. It’s too much, being worked from both ends, especially while Jason  _ stares _ at him like that, with his lips parted like Dick is a piece of meat he can’t wait to sink his teeth into. Jason wraps a hand around his own cock, and Dick feels like it’s not gentlemanly to just let him do it himself, but he’s so lost in pleasure that he fears he might actually float away if he lets go of whatever he’s white-knuckling.

He feels a little relieved, at least, to see Jason with drool streaking down his chin too, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. He continues to speak, a string of “come for me come in me fuckin’ make me feel it Grayson ohh  _ fuck _ yeah” in that gravelly way of his, and Dick doesn’t know which one of them starts to come first, but he does know that both of them end up howling in pleasure at around the same time.

Jason, caught up in the bucking of their hips, ends up spraying his cum in messy little droplets that cover Dick’s chest and his face and even his hair. Dick, meanwhile, feels Jason squeeze all the cum out of him like he truly is some sort of dairy cow. For some reason, in the heat of his orgasm, he finds the thought really fucking sexy.

And then it’s over, and the buzzing in his ass goes from “incredible” to “incredibly annoying” in 3 seconds flat. The overstimulation causes him to buck his hips, and Jason lets out a noise more pained than anything when the motion jabs Dick’s half-hard cock inside him. To Jason’s credit, he yanks the toy out and shuts it off with one hand when he realizes what the problem is.

“...Um.” Dick stares up at the ceiling, lukewarm beads of cum uncomfortably dripping down his face. “Wow.”

“Holy shit,” Jason says in agreement, sliding off of him with a grunt.

“So I guess I’m bi,” Dick says a few minutes later.

Jason, half-asleep and drooling on Dick’s pillow, snorts. “‘M happy for you.”

Dick wipes some of the cum off his face with the back of his hand. That part of the male sexual experience, he could do without. Even when it’s his own cum, the feeling of it drying on his skin makes his nose wrinkle.

After another moment of contemplation, he asks, “And you are… gggaaayyy…?”

“Does it matter?”

Dick shrugs. “Guess not.”

More silence. As tired as he is, Dick can’t seem to quiet his mind, not right now. He opens his mouth to make another astute observation, maybe about how Jason sounds kind of like a porn star during sex, but a grunt from next to him stops him cold.

“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll come in your eye next time.”

Dick perks up. “Next time?”

Jason lazily opens one eye, sizing him up. After a moment, he grins, reaching up to swipe a glob of cum out of Dick’s hair.

“Yeah, cowboy. Next time.”

Dick falls asleep with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> berate me for my horrendous jokes on [tumblr](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
